


What The Hell Is That?

by Dragongoddess13



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcyland, F/M, Shockstrike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragongoddess13/pseuds/Dragongoddess13
Summary: Darcy stared down at the tiny creature staring right back up at her, confusion playing on both of their faces.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyofTricksandChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofTricksandChaos/gifts).



> This is based on a series of three panels I recently saw in The Deadpool Comic

What The Hell Is That?

xXx

Darcy stared down at the tiny creature staring right back up at her, confusion playing on both of their faces. “Hello.” she greeted the little white Chihuahua hesitantly. It yipped at her in response. “Are you lost?” she asked it and it tilted its head in confusion before shuffling closer to her. Darcy tossed her sleep mussed curls over her shoulder as she slowly knelt down to meet the little dog. 

Darcy had been sleeping with The Strike Commander for a few months now, but given the spontaneous nature of their relationship it was only just last night that she found herself in Brock Rumlow’s apartment. In all the time she’d gotten to know Brock she had come to many conclusions but one always soared above the others. Brock Rumlow was not who she expected him to be. To the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. he was the commander of one of the most elite units in the organization. He was tough, unapproachable and extremely intimidating. But that’s really what drew her to him, the muscles, his gorgeous eyes and ridiculously good hair were just a bonus. There was an intensity to him that attracted her to him, an intensity in his eyes whenever he looked at her that made her want to jump him where he stood. 

Their first time had been in her office. She had been working late, long after everyone had gone home and she had left just long enough to get herself a cup of coffee from the break room. When she got back, her once unoccupied seat was filled with five feet eight inches of intense brooding Italian. A conversation ensued and one she scarcely remembered because at some point she found herself bent over her desk with him driving into her from behind. 

Their following encounters were much the same. They’d meet up somewhere, the supply closet, the showers in the gym, and a few times one of the SUVs in the car pool. It was mostly just a tryst of convenience. They were both attracted to each other and they didn’t have to lie to each other about what they really did for a living. But in these rendezvous Darcy learned the different sides of Brock Rumlow, beyond the rough exterior and the intimidating stares. He had a softer size, a comforting air. She couldn’t really explain it, but the closest she could come to an explanation was that she felt safe with him. He gave her a sense of comfort that she’d never felt with anyone else. Maybe it was because she knew he couldn’t hurt her, that they weren’t really anything but a good time to each other, but she had a feeling that despite the truth of that it wasn’t going to remain as simple as it began. A fact that was proven the night before as what would have normally been a late night rendezvous at her desk had turned into a burger and fries at a twenty four hour diner and a stroll through the city to his apartment. 

Now she was standing, or kneeling rather, in his kitchen, messy curls hanging around her shoulders and his plain black shirt hanging off one shoulder and just above the knee, with a little white Chihuahua sitting before her. A pink leather collar sat around it’s neck, silver studs, spiking around it with a tag dangling down that read “Killer” in neat military-esce script. 

Carefully she held her hand out to him and he leaned his snout closer, sniffing at her hand before yipping happily and closing the distance between them. Darcy laughed as he licked her fingers and she leaned over and picked him up, then stood clutching him to her chest and scratching at his ears. He snuggled into her embrace, enjoying the attention she was paying him. 

“I see you’ve met my house guest.” Brock’s deep voice rumbled sleepily behind her and she turned to find him leaning in the doorway to the bedroom, hair mussed, eyes tired and a lazy smirk on his lips. “You know he must really like you, he’s usually pretty vicious.”  

“ A “Killer” huh?” she asked with an amused smile. He smiled too looking away as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered toward her. He stopped before her scritching Killer behind the ears before leaning forward to lay a kiss on her lips. “He’s not exactly what I would picture in a dog for you.” she told him. He chuckled ruefully. 

“What can I say,” he told her. “He was just kinda thrown at me.” 

“Really?” 

He nodded, reaching forward and pulling Killer from her arms. He pulled the small dog close, scratching at his jaw and pecking him on the head before stooping down and putting him on his feet. When he stood to full height again he pulled Darcy to him, arms wrapped around her waist. “How about I make us some breakfast?” he asked. Darcy nodded and Brock pulled away moving into the kitchen and pulling pans from the cabinets. He got started on breakfast as Darcy made herself comfortable at the breakfast bar. She watched him move around the kitchen with practiced ease, smiling to herself as Killer stayed close by, happily accepting any scraps of food Brock tossed him. 

“So did you rescue him?” she asked. Brock peered over his shoulder questioningly. She gestured to Killer. 

“No, I told you, he was thrown at me.” he replied turning back to the stove and pulling the pan off the burner. He then turned to the breakfast bar and scooped the contents of the pan onto plates. 

“Literally?” she asked. He nodded. “I thought you were exaggerating.” she said on a laugh. 

“Yeah, well, that’s what I get for trying to ignore Deadpool when he’s in town.” Brock told her, taking a seat beside her and digging into his breakfast. 

“I feel like I really need to hear the whole story.” Darcy told him, laughing at the constipated look on his face. 

“You’ll have to look up the report.” he told her with a smirk. It was clearly a challenge.

“Alright I will.” she replied never one to back down from a challenge. “I don’t suppose you’ll give me a clue?” 

Brock smirked turning to look at her. “Not a chance.”      



End file.
